Cravings

Oh, Internets, I want a cup of coffee. Last night I made toddy, and my whole kitchen still smells like it. Before that, my kitchen smelled from the half-pound of freshly roasted espresso beans I'd picked up from Dunn Bros on Sunday and used to make it.

Sunday was the last day I had coffee.

That's because Sunday morning I woke up with a sore throat. I had coffee at Dunn Bros later that morning, even though I knew I probably shouldn't--and did chase it with two gigantic mugs of herbal tea. But the sore throat stuck around, so I picked up a box each of Airborne and Cold-Eeze that evening and have been dutifully taking both. I've also been drinking a lot of water and herbal tea and avoiding sugar. And coffee.

I've been feeling headachy and fatigued, but I'm not actually sure how much of that is from fighting off a cold and how much is from not having coffee! I guess maybe I'll go take a tiny nap.

A Prairie Home Companion

I was up early this morning to take a friend to the airport so that she could catch her flight to Peru. Actually, she drove there, but I drove her car back to my place. This time of year, you never know when they're going to close a side of the street to sweep up leaves or plow snow, so she asked if she could leave her car with me. It was the first time I'd driven since September, and it was admittedly a little scary... but also pretty awesome. She had suggested that I use the car for things like groceries and laundry, so I swung by Whole Foods on the way home, and it felt distinctly luxurious not to have to haul everything home on my own back.

I didn't, however, drive into St. Paul, which is where I spent most of the afternoon. On MPR this morning they had announced that A Prairie Home Companion was at home this week, and that the featured guest was Emmylou Harris. They also said that $15 rush tickets would be available at the box office at 4:00 p.m., 45 minutes before the show. The show's website said that these tickets always sell out, and that people generally start lining up between noon and two. I called pretty much everyone I knew in town, and everyone was busy, so I decided to go by myself. I also decided to bus.

Getting there did take a while (a little less than an hour), but it was also pretty ridiculously easy. I walked about three blocks total, most of them between my house and the first bus stop, and had one transfer in downtown Mpls. It was definitely chilly, but the sun was shining and everything looked sparkly and beautiful.

When I got to the Fitzgerald box office, there was no line and a sign on the door said that place-holder numbers for the rush line were available inside. I'd read that they did this in cases of "bad weather, rain, snow, [or] extreme cold," but I didn't realize that a mere 28° counted! In any case, I got my number (29), and spent the next several hours by the fire at Dunn Bros, outlining and writing an abstract for a paper and reading.* I went back, as directed, at around 4:00, and a crowd had gathered. Apparently they had given out upwards of 100 numbers, although their most optimistic guess was that only up to about 65 had any chance of getting tickets (two tickets could be purchased per place-holder number). Eventually, they ended up calling out numbers and allowing us into the box office to purchase our tickets, but before that we learned about the available seats (the first ones released were in the front row and on the stage, or other seats with partially obstructed views, and the latter ones were just standing-room space) and had to arrange ourselves roughly in order of our numbers. That reminded me of numerous "ice-breaker"/group bonding exercises, but everyone was excited and a little giddy from the cold (I've written about this) and, of course, united by a love of nerdy public radio, so it was actually kind of fun chatting.

So. I'd been nervous, but I did get in, although it was for standing room only. We'd been offered the option of "stepping aside" instead of buying standing tickets, as other seats (guests' reserves and others) were to potentially become available later. However, buying a standing ticket was the only way to guarantee seeing the show, so I did that.

And it was great. I'd called Ellen before leaving to confirm that it was in fact worth it to bus clear into St. Paul, potentially stand in line for hours with the possibility of not getting in, and bus clear back, in order to hear Emmylou Harris, even if I had to do it myself. She confirmed that it absolutely was, and she was right.

Emmylou and her band only played about four songs, but they were fabulous, and I enjoyed the rest of the show, too--though I did get a bit stiff from standing. (I was in the first floor balcony, in the right wing, by a column and behind a railing, so I did have something to lean on. There were two of the railing spots, and as a single, I ended up sharing the space with a guy who was an uncomfortably close talker but who I could mostly ignore after the show started.) For half the price of the cheapest tickets, it was also a great deal.

Unfortunately, I didn't figure out how to submit a message for that greeting segment they do. Mine was going to run along the lines of, "Cërï thanks Ellen, cyborg extraordinaire, who convinced her it was worth it to stand in line." Or hopefully something more clever and amusing... though it's clearly a moot point now. You can ask Ellen about the cyborg bit.

So. Emmylou Harris is a glowing goddess, and I totally have a girl crush on her. But get this. Two-thirds of her band were at a table next to me in Dunn Bros, and I didn't even know! I'd noticed the very skinny guy in the designer jeans, with the shaved head, silver hoop earrings, and black cowboy hat, who walked by outside several times, and then came in and out a time or two. I noticed when another guy, wearing a pin-striped blazer over a printed shirt and a fedora with a feather in the band, came in and sat at his table and that they talked. I realized that the first one was older than he looked, and couldn't figure out whether they were a couple or what. (I was also trying to engage in the aforementioned productive activities, so this was just general distraction, not a concentrated effort.) When the took the stage, though, and I recognized first the feathered hat, and then the two guys--the first one the bassist, and the second the accordionist--I couldn't believe how close I'd been to Emmylou without even knowing. Wow.

*I'm only about 20 pages in, but so far I am loving this book!

Regulars

This morning I graded papers by the fire at Dunn Bros. They've installed new seating along the window that faces Lake Street, and both of the baristas were new, but I still saw a few of the regulars I've been seeing for the past two and a half years I've been frequenting this coffee shop.

There's the twitchy bald guy with the beanie, who looks kind of like my landlord and smokes just outside the window so he can watch his stuff. There's the older man in the earflap hat, with the crinkly white hair and beard, who brings in small bags and a dog eared journal, but spends hours slowly tearing up the newspaper. And there's the couple who wears almost entirely black and looks so much alike that when I first saw them I wasn't sure if they were partners or siblings. The second year, she got pregnant, and today, their baby was smiling at me and talking. Well, sort of talking.

I think some of the regulars must recognize me, too, although I only know a few names. For all the looking I do from behind my own face, it only occasionally occurs to me that the mirror goes both ways. I tried to imagine today how the others might categorize me. "The student," since I'm generally surrounded by piles of papers and/or books? "The biker," since I often set my helmet (and gloves/balaclava, etc. on days like today) beside me as I work? "The cheapskate," since I sometimes bring in my own baked goods or fruit? (Today a fellow biker sitting beside me busted out a Tupperware of Cheerios and milk!) Or what if I'm "The unhappy one," since if I'm often under pressure to accomplish--frequently unpleasant--tasks while I'm there, like grading?

I do not know. It's so hard to judge these things. At times I've decided I must be the "Cute-ish, probably desperate girl," since boys have taken it upon themselves to flirt with me. I decided the reason was that if I was at a table by myself with my computer and my books on the weekend, I must be single. In fact, I wasn't, though since I have been again, I've been hit on less (though I'm also spending far fewer weekends there).

Phone Dump

So today was the brunch for our carni-/omnivorous friends, who just returned from Ecuador and whose kitties we had been watching in their absence. They showed us photos from Ecuador, and we showed them photos of their kitties!

We had my mom's baked eggs, rosemary roasted potatoes à la David, blueberry muffins, pineapple mimosas, coffee, and fresh fruit. Smashing!

As I was pulling kitty photos off my phone to show here, I found some others.

This is a Fruit Loops-infused panna cotta David and I had at Bryant Lake Bowl last May, complete with a Fruit Loops cookie and raspberry sauce. It was actually kind of amazing.
Downtown on a glorious May day:
Biking on the Greenway in June:"Trogdor Sez..." at the Bryant Lake Dunn Bros:
Giant PEAS! (Wow!)
Stop sign at my old corner, December:
Corner of 26th and Stevens, December:
Welcome sign to our new neighborhood, February:
View from the plane back from Indianapolis,* March:
Epic amounts of accumulated snow in our new backyard, 2/22. It stayed (most of it, anyway) until about three weeks ago. Now it's all gone!
The Greenway, early January.
I include this photo just by way of mentioning that four weeks ago, while there was still snow (though not this much), I was walking across the Greenway on a bridge like those shown when I pulled my phone out to check the time. I was on my way to yoga, and dropped the phone back into the pocket of my fleece as I hurried onward to the studio. Only, when I patted my pocket, the phone wasn't there. When I looked behind me on the bridge, the phone wasn't there. When I looked over the bridge, down onto the Greenway, I finally saw my phone--submerged in a semi-frozen puddle far below.

I contemplated leaving it for dead, or at least for later. Realizing, however, that such would certainly seal its fate--and that it would be far more difficult to locate an hour and a half later, when the sun would have set [should the cell miraculously not have permanently expired during class]--I decided to slide down the icy bank to retrieve it. I waded into the large and icy puddle and laughed as I slipped back up the bank and continued on to class. (I had slipped and fallen down the bank and was rather wet, but figured that as it was a class I always leave soaked in sweat and condensation anyway, it wouldn't much matter.)

The phone was flickering ominously when I pulled it out, and I tried vainly to turn it off using the button before I finally wised up and pulled out the battery. I stashed phone and battery in (securely zipped) separate pockets, and let them dry until morning. In the morning, the phone worked, though it did give me a brief scare when the display suddenly stopped working. However, full function returned after further drying and a hard reset, and it continues--almost unbelievably after its 2.5 year tenure--to work as well as ever (by which I mean it still tends to reset its own ringer volume, make calls and try to access the Internet from my pocket, and generally drive me crazy). The screen was slightly fogged for several days, but even that has disappeared, leaving no trace of its misadventures.

I'm glad it survived.

*Did I ever mention that trip here? I don't think I did. My grandparents celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary last month, and I was able to use a miles flight to join them, my aunt and uncle, my cousin and her husband, and my dad, who had flown from the Northwest for the occasion.

Overheard

I didn't even know this site existed until just now. I found this quote particularly amusing.

I discovered it while googling in an attempt to find information about a local news feature that was shot at my Dunn Bros last week while I was there. The interviewer* warned me ("in case you're skipping work or are wanted or anything"** ) that I might be in the background of the shot in soft focus. And, ooh! I just found it, and I am. See if you can spot me:

Isn't my coffee shop awesome? I don't think the guy in the clip is a regular, though; that was the first time I'd seen him there.

Tonight I made this soup and baked bread. I used small ring pasta instead of broken vermicelli. It was pretty tasty, but nothing too amazing.

And had you heard that Hillary Clinton loaned her campaign $5 million dollars? I'm on the Obama e-mail list, so I keep getting messages from "Barack" and his campaign, which is how I became aware of it yesterday evening (they asked for money, and apparently there was a record-setting response).

Finally, from Obama's website, this graphic, which includes three, to quote Mandy, of "the lot" of U.S. states in which I've lived (and in which some of you readers still do! (Don't forget to vote!)):


*I didn't even recognize the name of the TV station, let alone his, when he introduced himself, though it's certainly nothing personal; I hope my blank stare wasn't offensive.

**I'm not.

Endless summer

Today was clear, dry, and quite cool--I think the high was only 79. Although right now the breeze blowing into my apartment is smoke-tinged and distinctly autumnal, most of today felt much more like spring than fall.

As I hauled my rolling suitcase out to my car this afternoon, heading to teach my last two classes of the 10-week term, I thought about whether I would go ahead and accept spring, given the option. Whether I would head back to my parents' in California, run another half marathon, do another two weeks of training in Chicago, and then teach two more five-week sessions of reading classes--before repeating with another spring.

It has been rather a rough summer in many ways--"epically bad," I've been calling it, although I almost hate to tempt fate by posting that. But if I didn't have to repeat things like having my bike stolen and my "major slamdance with the concrete," as Joel put it, having summer on the repeat cycle wouldn't be too bad. That is, if I weren't condemned to repeat my mistakes ("The idea of eternal return in a mysterious one, and Nietzsche has often perplexed other philosophers with it..."), but could instead learn from them and not be forced to reenact the series of disasters.

I was still thinking about it as I walked into the building later, Dunn Bros Coffee Crema and blank program evaluations in one hand, rolling suitcase pulled by the other as I steadied myself to teach my last two classes of the summer. Would I risk another cycle of summer now--and maybe another few after that? Yes; I think I would.

It does seem easier, after all, to bear those ills we have/ than fly to others that we know not of.

Signs of spring in Uptown

1. Tattoos become ubiquitous as people show more skin.

2. My favorite Dunn Bros is colder inside than outside.

3. Hipster yard sale. Who knew?

Pictures

The last weekend I was in California, I met up with Miss Mandy, who gave me her "old" camera.
This is the first picture I took, when she loaned me the battery from her new camera.

When I got home, I ordered a battery and charger, and took pictures of, among other things,

The camera:


My plant:


And my bike with its new tires:


I even shot a video of a thunderstorm:


But then, alas, my battery died--and it turned out the charger was defective and wouldn't recharge it. I sent it back, but haven't yet received the replacement. Thus, my pictures from the weekend with Ellen were all shot on the phone instead of the cute new camera.

Still, they capture a few highlights of the good times, which included lots of biking (on the Greenway; around the lakes; and along and across the river), lots of walking (trying to get to Ikea from the Mall of America light rail station; downtown; and along the riverfront), and lots of eating (Pancho Villa, Dunn Bros, Nala Pak, Ikea cafe, Spoon River, the Bad Waitress):


Oh, and Ellen got her hair cut! I'm going back there tonight to have mine done. I am tired of pretending I'm growing it out. I want it SHORT! I think Jim will deliver. Maybe I'll get my charger back so that I can take a picture.

Memege

Tagged by Mandy...

A-Available or Single? Quirkytogether?
B-Best Friend: Several, from both high school and college.
C-Cake or Pie: My mom's pecan pie.
D-Drink of Choice: I love Dunn Bros' caramel macchiato!
E-Essential Item(s): Contact lenses. I'm an invalid without them.
F- Favourite Colour(s): Silver.
G- Gummy Bears or Worms? Worms--the sour ones!
H- Hometown: I think I probably still count Auburn; I lived there for six years and my parents stayed for another six after I left.
I- Indulgence: Sleeping in. I indulge too often.
J- January or February: I hate winter in the Midwest. This year, February was colder. Painfully so.
K- Kids: Teaching them this summer!
L- Life is incomplete without: Education.
M- Marriage Date: Bryant is my favorite wedding date--the last few were his cousin's, my sister's, and his brother's.
N- Number of Siblings: Two, a younger sister and a younger brother.
O- Oranges or Apples? "Although they are both fruit, they have infinite similarities and differences."
P- Phobias/Fears: Elevators, losing my sight, losing my mind.
Q- Favourite Quote: I like this one from Umberto Eco: "The need to fall in love. Some things you can feel coming. You don't fall in love because you fall in love; you fall in love because of the need, desperate, to fall in love. When you feel that need, you have to watch your step: like having drunk a philter, the kind that makes you fall in love with the first thing you meet. It could be a duck-billed platypus." And this one from Rainer Maria Rilke: "But those tasks that have been entrusted to us are difficult; almost everything serious is difficult; and everything is serious."
R- Reasons to smile: I have large teeth and use them to my advantage.
S- Season: Summer.
T- Tag Three: Voth, Daniel, Carissa
U- Unknown Fact about Me: I appear to be allergic to my new mascara.
V – Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animals? Vegetarian.
W- Worst Habit(s): I'd try to be original here... but procrastination and wasting time really are my worst habits.
X – X-rays or Ultrasounds?: I try not to make a habit of either...
Y- Your Favourite Foods: Recently, locally, and not cooked by me, I am loving soup from the co-op, Las Lomas tamales, the hummus and veggie sandwiches at the coffee shop, and the Bad Waitress's tofu scramble.
Z- Zodiac: Virgo.

I love...

Cold filtered coffee made from freshly-roasted Dunn Bros java beans (chocolately!)

Sunshine with highs in the 70s

Fresh basil on cucumbers on havarti on a French baguette

My neighbors

Ripe cherries

The pearl earrings I bought at the Stone Arch Arts Fest

Valentine

I think it's still fair to say that I celebrated IQD this year, although it did admittedly bear more similarities to Valentine's Day than past ones have. Then again, it was also way more fun!

David flew in pre-dawncrack, at 5:48 a.m. My neighbor had loaned me her car, so I was able to pick him up, and then drive around for a while searching (beanlessly) for coffee until it was light enough to see at Minnehaha Falls Park. The falls weren't frozen solid, thanks to last week's thaw--although it was 10° when we were there--but were still impressive in their iciness.

We stopped by my favorite Dunn Bros for the coffee we hadn't found earlier, took a quick tour of Uptown, and wandered down to the frozen expanse of Lake Calhoun. There's enough Northwesterner left in me, especially with a fellow web-footer, to be deeply impressed by that much ice!

Speaking of ice, we later went skating at Lake of the Isles, which not only has a cozy temporary warming shelter, but offers FREE ice skates for the borrowing! I was dreadful, of course (incurring the looks only persons two and half feet tall--and, naturally, extremely proficient on their own blades--can bestow upon such a hopeless elder), but did make it three loops without falling before deciding I'd had enough.

In the evening, we went to the ever-delightful Cafe Brenda, and then to The Two Gentlemen of Verona at the Guthrie. The latter was staged as a 1950s live television quasi-musical extravaganza, which made for some very creative characters and a lot of fun. It was too cold to explore the mill ruins; David was very brave and never actually complained about the cold, but although 20 (which it did eventually hit before dropping again) feels balmy under certain circumstances, it's still freakishly bitter for most normal people, and he suggested we enjoy more of the Cities' outdoor activities when it's a bit warmer. He had to fly back this afternoon, concluding the whirlwind arctic holiday adventure.

Remember, although only the hardiest visit during the winter, Chez CëRïSë and the Disaster Kitchen always welcome visitors! Make YOUR reservations today!

Photos courtesy of David

Hathor

So last week Heather came to visit me! As it happened, I beat her to Mpls by only a few hours, due to my automotive adventures. Due to said adventures, we were also collectively car-less during her visit, following returning the rental to the airport Thursday morning. Heather, however, is nothing if not hardcore (and uncomplaining!), and we managed to navigate the city, from the Mall of America to downtown, via the wonders of public transportation. Actually, it meant a lot to me to have a willing compatriot as I entered the completely car-less lifestyle.

As usual, I was anxious to show off the city's good eating, so we went to the French Meadow for bruschetta, vegetarian chili, and spinach salad with warm, pepper-encrusted goat cheese and a blueberry vinaigrette; True Thai for egg rolls, red curry with kobocha squash, and Tom Yum soup; Cafe Brenda for hummus and red pepper/walnut/pomegrante dip with crudites and pita, vegetable croquettes, one of the chef's specials--a grilled zucchini-eggplant-heirloom tomato-lentil patty "stack" with sheep's cheese and guacamole--and baked vanilla custard; the Midtown Exchange for Manny's Tortas (because Las Lomas was out of tamales--though Heather got some the next day); Sebastian and Joe's for ice cream; the Old Spaghetti Factory for pasta; and the Bad Waitress and multiple Dunn Bros for coffee (and ice cremas!).

We did Uptown, downtown, and, yes, the MOA. Oh, and Rainbow, where Heather bought 50 pounds of peanut butter! Friday, we attended the Rally for the Economy, which occurred at the same time that McCain and Palin were addressing supporters in Anoka. Sunday, a friend and I biked in the Urban Assault Ride (pictures and post forthcoming), and that evening Heather and I attended "A View From the Bridge" at the Guthrie, for which a former student we'd bumped into on Friday, a Guthrie employee, had generously given us tickets! Monday, before she had to fly out, Heather even agreed to a spin down the Greenway and around Lake of the Isles on a borrowed bike.

We also managed to fit in a few meals at home, a survey class period and a tour of my department, a party at the chair's house (I'd told Heather earlier that she'd be the perfect excuse for me not to go, but she was game and we had a decent time!) and lots and lots of chatting.

I've been back to Walla Walla several times since moving to the midwest, and have taken advantage of the Swinjarnyars' hospitality there on multiple occasions, but it was really a privilege to have Heather come visit me here and see my home, school, and city. I introduced her to people here as one of my best friends, one I'd known since our freshman year of high school. That, ladies and gentlemen, is dedication, and I feel very fortunate indeed.

Pictures from the weekend; click here for larger versions and to comment:



(Remember, you, too, can join those who have experienced the wonders of the Chez Cerise Minneapolis Tour! I love visitors...)